


Hey Jealous Lover Ch.3 of 16

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Jealous Brian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The game is afoot!<br/>Takes place after Ep.208 and before Ep.217</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Jealous Lover Ch.3 of 16

_“Mark the words I’m gonna say. Mister, you just made a big mistake.”_ _©Deane/Miller_

Brian’s POV:  
  
     The adrenaline rushes through me like a freight train. I take a deep breath to “center” myself, as Zen Ben likes to say, and fuck if I don’t feel a little better, more in control. Maybe he's on to something.  
  
     The _Blue Lagoon_ understudy is an intriguing little fucker. I let my gaze linger on his crotch and smirk at its slight movement. Think you can handle it, little man? Think you have the balls? Our eyes meet and he looks at me with what, exactly? I’m off my game tonight if I can’t figure it out within a few seconds. That's not only puzzling, but also unsettling.  
  
     I’m tired. There’s been too much bullshit at work lately, too much going on behind the scenes that I’m not privy to and it niggles me. Stealthy Mata-Cynthia-Hari hasn’t been able to get any info either, and if she can’t, no one can. Office crap usually never bothers me but this has an odd vibe to it.

 _“I know there’s something going on.”_ _©R.Ballard_  
  
     I throw a sideways glance at Justin and immediately regret my curiosity. Reading between the lines I hate the way his pupils dilate when he looks at Adam, how his gaze lingers a second too long on him. Even more disturbing, I’m surprised at how those two facts increase my dislike for the man-child, making me feel je— What the fuck? Where did that come from? The word isn’t in my vocabulary. Get a grip! Nothing to worry about. Of course, he’s not interested in Goldilock _s_ like that. As a fuck maybe, a great piece of whiter-shade-of-pale-boy-ass, but that’s all.  
  
     This has to be the most bizarre situation I’ve ever experienced. Probably because I don’t feel like myself. I feel nervous, angry, edgy. I feel.... Pfft! No fucking way!  
  
_“What is this?” HE asked HIM, eyes filled with fear.  
                “What is what?”  
                “This! This whatever it is!” Never having experienced it before, HE couldn’t describe it to HIM.  
                “Are you talking about emotion?”  
                 HE looked at HIM with disdain.“I know what emotion is. I just don’t know what...”  
                 HIM interrupted, a look of comprehension dawning on his face. “Ah! I see! Now I understand!”  
                “Understand what?” HE asked in confusion.  
                “What there is to see,” HIM replied enigmatically.  
                “And that is?”  
                “What you refuse to see. It’s called jealousy.”_  
  
     That’s insane! Jealous? Me? Yeah, right! What the fuck do _I_ have to be jealous of? This really is a “theatre of the absurd” moment. I don’t need this fucking shit. I’m fucking tired. I need a long, hot shower and thanks to a hemorrhoid named Adam, I’ll be showering solo. Maybe that’s for the best. I have to think, to strategize. Why does Garbo’s phrase, _I want to be alone,_ run through my head?  
  
     I turn to Justin, hiding my irritation with indifference. Like any other skill, it requires determination and practice to perfect. I’ve had both. “I need a shower. Order Thai. You know what I like.” The double entendre isn’t lost on Sunshine. I knew it wouldn’t be. The baby blues widen, not only with familiar understanding but also with familiar anticipation, because he knows what could be waiting for him—if he wants it.  
  
     Dismissing both kiddies with a nod, I undo my tie and stroll to the bathroom. Clothes off in record time, I indulge myself with my newly installed decadent IB Rubinetterie shower head, another symbol of my hedonism, as Justin likes to say. But I haven’t heard any complaints from him, only softly muttered groans and sighs as the pulsating water tints his skin to a delicious shade of lusty pink and darkens his cock to a delectable complimentary hue from the stimulation. The jets of heated water rain down in soothing streams, massaging my skin, draining the tension. Extravagant? Fuck, yeah and worth every dollar!  
  
     I lean against the tile wall and replay the past few minutes in slow motion, forcing myself to identify and accept certain uncomfortable truths. The idea of Justin interested in someone other than me is unfamiliar territory. What I feel at that thought is only overshadowed by the shock I feel at my reaction to it.  
  
     I’m not used to this, not used to being— Fuck! Am I? Am I really _jealous?_ But what am I jealous _of?_ Jealous of another man wanting Justin or jealous of Justin wanting another man? Is there a difference? I guess if I’m honest, yeah, there is. My chest tightens, and I swallow to keep the acid in my stomach from overflowing.  
  
     This isn't something I can’t handle. I’ve known from day one that he'd leave. It was a matter of when, not _if_. But I can’t deny seeing them together awakened something in me, something I never knew existed. Time for a game plan, Kinney!

 

continued here: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/1218916>


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